


anastasia college au that i will find a real title for eventually

by artificialromance



Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: ?? i guess, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Parallel to the original plot, Slow Burn, but in a modern setting yk, sorry theres no gleb lily or dowager i didn't want it to be too long
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-23 06:38:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16613807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificialromance/pseuds/artificialromance
Summary: modern dimya college au that (loosely) parallels the plot of the musical





	1. with everything to win

It starts when Dmitry’s clicking through his school email’s inbox. 235 unread messages since he last logged on, but he didn’t think any of them would be important.

He couldn’t’ve been more wrong. 

Most of the stuff is assignments from his teachers and newsletters from administration and on-campus organizations. Lots of chatter, he thinks, and nothing gets said. Countless events and fundraisers and meetings, homework here and there, office hours, it made him wonder if people who did it all even had a real life outside of school. 

A part of him protests the thought. It’s not like  _ he _ had never tried going to any of them. He had a couple friends, but they were the ones who approached him, since they were all top in the class. And yeah, they were all assholes, but Dmitry didn’t need friends. He was okay alone, thriving even; and he took lots of pride in not needing people.

His head snaps up when he hears keys jingle just outside the door. It turns, the door swings open, and it’s Vlad. 

“Dmitry! You’re up before noon on a Saturday?” he asks as he brings his grocery bags to the kitchen counter. 

“Is it really so hard to believe?” he calls out to his uncle in the kitchen.

“By your track record, absolutely,” he replies. Dmitry hears the fridge open and bags crinkle as he focuses back on his laptop, and a subject line stands out to him. “Congratulations, Dmitry.” In his head, he knows it’s a scam, but he can’t stop his heart from jumping a little bit when he reads the words next to each other. He’s never won anything before. 

Against his better judgement, he clicks on it. It’s an invitation for a scholarship. He’s a fast reader so he zips through the message and it’s too good to be true. First of all, he didn’t even know that he was second in his class (he knew he was good, but not  _ that _ good). That one was a quick little ego boost. 

But the scholarship was insane. He does some quick math in his head, and it covers his tuition, to the point where he could graduate without loans.  _ There’s no way _ . He rushes to open up a few more tabs to check to see if it’s legit. It is. There’s a whole website, connected to a real organization, all from valid IP addresses, and his name is right there on the website with his competitors—all low-income, all orphans.  _ Yikes _ . It’s exclusive to his college, so he quickly takes note of all the names and opens a new browser. Hacking, for him, started out as a hobby and quickly became an asset. Dmitry’s never blackmailed anyone but it makes him feel secure that it’s an option—if he wanted to find something out about someone, chances were, he could do it. 

There are twenty names. He opens his school’s student database (thank God they didn’t update the security yet) and tracks the course load and GPA of each student listed. All of them are far, far behind him—all but one. One girl is ahead of him. She’s two years younger, but the scholarship is just for juniors.

He grabs his phone and opens Instagram to look up her name. She comes up, but it’s private, and despite being younger than him she’s a junior, too. It’s  _ his _ graduation year in her bio. And her bio is all he can see, since her account is locked. Dmitry has always been sneaky but he’ll draw the line at getting into a girl’s private instagram, especially since it has less than a hundred followers. It’s her in the profile picture though, and he takes a closer look. 

He recognizes her. She must be in one of his lectures, and he’s seen her at one of the dining halls before.  _ So she does exist _ .

And she’s a threat. 

Vlad always tells him to be kind and to imagine what others are going through before making judgements, but Dmitry is doubtful there’s someone at his school who’s had it as bad as him, let alone worse. These other kids, they might be a few thousand dollars out from tuition, while Dmitry has had to borrow every cent. He refused to take Vlad’s money after offering—he was an unmarried man living alone before he was offering, there was now ay Dmitry would let himself impose even further. A hard life meant he had to make hard decisions, and if scamming a girl out a scholarship that wasn’t even hers yet meant a world of opportunity, he’d be a fool to pass it up. He’s not proud of it, but he wasn’t a bad person. It’s not like he was selling drugs or doing hits or something. Still, the thought of tricking her makes him so nervous.

He also knows Vlad says that out of regret for the way he treated his brother, Dmitry’s father, when he was still alive. Dmitry couldn’t blame his uncle. He did at first, back when he was a kid. But the more he grows up (and goes to therapy), the more he realizes his father wasn’t quite the same superhero his childhood remembers. 

And still. It doesn’t stop him from missing him. 

Sometimes he wonders what his dad would think about his son’s life now. He always rejected institutions like private university, but he also said he wanted Dmitry to be better. But maybe that’s not what he meant. Maybe he  _ is _ disappointed. 

It’s not healthy to think about. Dmitry knows this. He’s in his head again, and as he gets out he notices Vlad standing over him, leaning down to look at his computer screen. 

“Jesus,” Dmitry exclaims, startled at the figure that snuck up on him. Vlad chuckles at him. 

“I hope all that coding is your computer science homework, not you getting into trouble,” he says, making his way over to the couch. 

A smile creeps out through Dmitry’s teeth. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” 

“Oh, my.” Dmitry giggles. 

“No, I’m nominated for a huge scholarship. I ran some screenings to see if it was legit, and it is. I looked at school servers to scope out my competition, which, you know...doesn’t hurt anyone if no one finds out?” Vlad gives him a slightly disapproving look. “Well, either way, you’ll be happy to know I’m second in my entire class.”

Vlad’s face lights up. “Dmitry! That’s brilliant! Congratulations!” His heart swells with pride at the encouragement. 

“Yeah, the girl who’s beating my out is crazy, though.”

“A girl, you said?”

“Vlad, it’s 2018.” 

“No, that’s not what I meant! I was just thinking, only a smart girl could handle you and you and that attitude. Maybe the fates have aligned.”

“Are you…kidding?”

“Have I ever? I’m always serious.” Dmitry scoffs.

“No, Vlad. She’s weird. She has less than a hundred followers. That’s weird. Also, I think she skipped a grade, or two, cause she’s a junior but she’s younger than me.”

“All I’m saying is not to be so quick about...what’s her name again?”

Dmitry glances down at his phone again. “Anya.”

“Ahh. Don't be too quick about this Anya,” Vlad finishes. 

“Uh huh. We’ll see.” 


	2. this is the start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yay anya

As luck would have it, he spots her the next day.

He’s nervous. He doesn’t know why. She’s across the room, pretty small, wearing a hat and holding a book. Dmitry can’t make out the title from this far away.

He’ll find out, he supposes, when he gets there. He starts to walk.

“Is this seat taken?” Dmitry asks as he approaches her table.

She looks up at him blankly, taking him in for a minute, only to look down again.

“Nope.” She turns the page of her book.

 _Nice_. He pulls his chair out and sits down. “Anya, right?”

The girl furrows her brow, but doesn’t lift her eyes from the page. “Right.”

“Hi,” he says. Her eyes flicker up to meet his for a fleeting moment, just long enough to see his face grow a half-smile. “You’re in my bio lecture too, right?” (She wasn’t.)

She puts the book down and folds her arms on the table, leaning toward him closer, and looks him up and down. Dmitry can’t help but feel like he’s being inspected by her eyes. It’s honestly kind of weird. _Who does that?_

Anya tilts her head to one side. “I can’t be sure. There’s easily a hundred people in that class.” She picks up her fork and stabs a slice of baked potato from her plate. “But I suppose I’ll take your word for it.”

“Taking my word? I’m glad I'm already trustworthy.”

“I’d hardly call it trust. I don’t know any of my classmates’ names and I’m not better or worse off for it,” she says, nonchalant.

“Well, since I know yours it’s only fair you know mine. I’m Dmitry.”

“Dmitry,” she repeats, trying it out in her voice. It's sweet and smooth. “So Russian.”

“Oh, you like Russians?”

She scoffs. “Of course. What girl could resist fawning over immaculate geniuses like Tchaikovsky and Dostoevsky?”

“I’m gonna pretend like I know who these people are.”

“Are you _serious?_ How did you even get in here?”

“Maybe I’ve got some ‘immaculate genius’ of my own. You know my name—and now my ethnicity, I guess—but not my story,” he jokes.

She scoffs at him. “Please. You could never be a Chekhov, let alone a Tolstoy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, feigning offense.

“For starters, none of them would show up and bother a girl reading peacefully at her lunch table, assuming that with a little bit of smooth talking she’d go through with whatever he wanted from her without a second thought.”

 _Oh. Okay._ Dmitry doesn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t this. He’s completely caught off guard, bordering on speechless, so he goes back to the only tactic he knows.

“So you _do_ think I talk smooth?”

Silence. _Yikes._ Anya tilts her head down, as if to say, _Seriously?_

And he knows he deserves it. It’s all he can do to internalize how badly he wants to cringe at himself.

She pushes into her forearms to sit up straight again, and picks up the book. He finally checks for the title, _Notes from Underground._

“It was a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Dmitry, but I can assure you I’m not interested in whatever compelled you to interrupt me.”

Yeah, this was gonna be harder than he thought.

Dmitry cleared his throat. Already a sign of weakness. _God._ But after the smooth-talking bit and her face of disapproval, he figured he already dug himself a deep enough hole; one more shovel wouldn’t make a difference. “I’ll be back tomorrow. I’m telling you in advance, and I’ll try to come earlier so I don’t...interrupt you.”

“I don’t come here on Fridays.”

“Hey, listen, if you do and you just want to avoid me, it’s fine. I’ll leave you alone. For real.” As much as he loved to win and as much fun as it was to mess with her, this was just the first battle in his fight for that scholarship. He knew playing the long game is about knowing when to cut your losses. Also, he wasn’t an asshole _all_ the time. He really didn’t want her to hate him.

“I’ll be at the library. It’s a public space for students. I haven’t filed a restraining order so you’re within your rights to find me there and watch me read again.”

 _Okay_. This girl was weird.

“I meant what I said,” she says, almost sounding annoyed. “But you’re funny. Whether or not you’re trying to be.” He sees a twinkle in her eye at the jab. “So, do with that what you will.”

Dmitry feels himself smile before he thinks it.

**___**

 

That smile must have followed him all the way home, because Vlad had a comment to make as soon as he greeted his nephew.

“What’s got you looking so delighted, Dmitry?”

“What, I’m not allowed to be in a good mood? Something has to be different?” Another thing: he’s quickly annoyed.

“That’s not what I said! You’ve got to let down your defenses sometimes, boy. You’re at _home_ and you’ve still got one hand on your weapons.”

Dmitry scoffs and rolls his eyes. “So dramatic.”

“If you say so. I’m glad you’re in a good mood, anyhow.”

He hated it when people (“people” being just Vlad so far, but in theory, others too) could tell what he was feeling better than he could for himself. He does his best to wipe the stupid smile off his stupid face.

“Are you sure you don't wanna tell me?”

“Vlad!” Dmitry groans.

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop pressing,” Vlad acquiesces.

“Thanks,” Dmitry mutters as he practically sprints to his room.

He puts his bag down and gets his laptop out before sitting at his desk. He opens it up, types “notes from underground” into the search bar and hits enter. He can barely pronounce the author’s name.

 _It’s gonna be a long night_.

**Author's Note:**

> okay I'm really lazy and not that into multi-chapter fics but I promise this one will be worth it and I have the rest of it outlined so you shouldn't have to wait too long my goal is to have all of it published some time before nov 25th <3 thank you for reading


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